As Long As You Are Glorified
by Eavis
Summary: Are You good only when I prosper; true only when I'm filled? Are you King only when I'm carefree? Nay, You are true when I'm poor and needy. You are good when I'm parched and dry. You still reign in the deep valley. You're still King in the darkest night
1. Chapter 1

King Edmund the Just straightened his crown and twitched his robe nervously. Today was the first official court session since the Winter.

All that his teachers had said, all the advice and lessons he had gotten was running through his head, but predominate was what Aslan had said after his return from the Witch's camp.

If he closed his eyes he could still envision the Lion's great, solemn eyes looking into his as He said "_I will show you, Son of Adam, what is good. To do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly before Me_."

The words resonated in Edmund's mind as he took a deep breath and nodded for the guards to open the doors.

_Not by my might, Aslan, but by Your power._

* * *

Aslan's words to Edmund are paraphrased from Micah 6:8; which I thought fitted Edmund perfectly.

Edmund's last thoughts were paraphrased from Zechariah 4:6


	2. Sovereign

This one is slightly longer, but (I hope) just as good.

* * *

It was raining again, and the four Pevensie kids were sitting in the dark study.

"Of course, it _would_ be raining," Edmund remarked quietly.

The familiar line brought quick smiles to the faces of the other three, but they soon lapsed back to their carefully blank expressions.

"It doesn't matter, though, you know." Lucy said suddenly.

The others looked at her. "Whether it's raining or not, I mean," she elaborated, "Narnia's rather ruined us for England, I think. Here nearly everyone thinks rain is a drag, just something that spoils their plans. But I remember lush grass under my bare feet as I danced with the Fauns during a light spring rain. I remember Susan running to meet me with a warm towel, and then later that night sneaking down to the kitchen for hot chocolate with Edmund and Peridan. I remember the growling thunder during the summer storms that would make me think of Aslan. I...I-it, oh, _Aslan_!"

Her poise utterly shattered, Lucy flung herself on Peter's lap, weeping bitterly.

The others looked at each other. "It is even so for me," Edmund said quietly, "after...after the Witch, I thought I would hate winter, but I could not, in Narnia. There was too much of Aslan in it. Here, I find myself dreading winter. There is something missing here, something we had in Narnia that is not here."

"Look here." Peter said firmly, "I don't believe Aslan will leave us hanging about here with no direction. Have you ever known Him to do that?"

"No," Susan replied, sitting up straighter, "He has always taken care of us, He won't leave us here without telling us our place here."

"I'm sorry," Lucy said, still sniffing, "I know I shouldn't doubt Aslan. It's just, I miss it so much."

"Courage, Sister," Edmund said earnestly, "We must look on this as an opportunity for growth in faith."

"It doesn't matter, you know, " Susan echoed Lucy's earlier words softly, "Whether we get back or not. We need not grieve, as those that have no hope, for we know that whether we get back or stay here forever, Aslan will still be our good lord."

Peter rose to his feet, pulling Lucy up with him. "Sir and good Ladies, I propose that we take an oath, to the effect that we all, from here on, try to do only that which pleases Aslan, no matter where we are. Are we agreed?"

"Yea."

"Then so let us do. We have no sword-"

"Will this do?" Edmund held out a slim dagger.

Peter raised an eyebrow.

"The professor gave it to me." the dark-haired king explained with a smug smile.

"It will serve." Lucy said gravely, smiling at him.

The Four put their hands on the pommel, and Peter recited, "We four, sovereigns under Aslan, do swear that from this day on, no matter where we dwell, we will strive to do only that which honours Aslan. So we have sworn, so let us do. May Aslan bless and give us strength in this endeavor. Amen."

* * *

So, I didn't think it quite fair that Lucy always gets to be the strong one and Susan the doubter, so I tried to give Susan some of that strength that we know she had. Let me know what you thought!


	3. Comfort

"Oi! Pevensie! Aren't you coming?"

Edmund started, checked the time, and hurriedly dipped his pen into the inkwell and scratched out the last few lines of his letter.

"_Know, Peter, that I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother. The hearts of us all have been refreshed through you. Aslan be with you,_

_Edmund"._

Hastily he sealed the letter and clattered his way down the stairs. "Come on, Howland, don't want to be late for rugger practice, do you?" The younger Pevensie brother inquired, breezing past his roommate.

"Wait up, Pevensie!" Howland drew abreast of Edmund as the latter obligingly slowed. "It's thanks to me you aren't going to miss it entirely, you know."

"Yes." Edmund replied simply, "Thank you."

"Well, you're welcome. What were you doing anyway, writing to your girl?"

"No, to my brother."

Most boys, Howland reflected sourly, you could get a rise out of for saying that, if they even admitted they were writing to their brother at all. The subject of brothers seemed distasteful to most boys. But Pevensie had been a bit. . .odd ever since last term. He'd been in bad company last term, and whenever he mentioned his brother it was in a sullen, angry tone. But now whenever Pevensie mentioned his brother his face lit up with a quiet glow of pride.

Since it was the summer, Pevensie's brother was out of school, but Edmund, because of his low grades last term, had been kept in for summer school. The only good thing about said summer school, in Howland's opinion, was the extra rugger practice they were getting. Maybe, by the time the fall term came again, their team would beat St. Michaels. Unlikely. Though, they did have some good players this year.

Simons, for one. And Pevensie. He was a wonder at ball control and strategy. Often Howland wondered why he had been made captain instead of Pevensie.

Howland was rudely roused from his deliberation by a ball slamming into his stomach "Hey!"

Pevensie danced away, an insufferable smirk covering his face. "Always stay alert, Howland!"

Howland took off after him, deciding that _this_ was exactly why he'd been made captain instead of Pevensie.


	4. Truth

Digory pushed "The Republic" away from him with a frustrated sigh. Plato was all very well, but it didn't _answer _his questions, merely raised more.

He wished now that he'd gone with Polly and Mother – even shopping was better than the endless cycle of questions, hammering relentlessly at his brain.

Digory sighed wearily and rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he should eat something. He stood and ambled out to the kitchen.

As he stood munching a cheese –and- mustard sandwich and drinking a glass of milk (fresh, with cream floating deliciously on top), his eye fell on a calendar posted on the wall.

It was one of those cheery, merry affairs, with a bright photograph of a flower above the month, and then a saying below that.

Today's saying was a verse – Hebrews 11:6. Digory read it, half of his mind wondering when Polly'd get back. Abruptly his face changed. He set down his glass of milk with a soft _thunk_ and hurried into the study.

He searched the shelves, pulled a book off and eagerly flipped the pages till he found Hebrews. He sank down onto the couch and read.

Two hours and a changed life later, Digory greeted his mother and Polly with peace in his eyes and heart.


	5. Battlefield

Red. Blood. Terror. Heat. Stench. Death.

Helplessness. "_Provos!_" [brother]

Gasping, wracking sobs. "_Jeista, provos!" _[breath, brother]

". . .tell - tell me. _Say it!"_

Tears. "'Some trust in chariots, and some in horses, but we - " Sob.

". . .trust in the Name of. . ."

"In the Name of - No! _No, _I won't let you die!"

". . .Provos. . .I go home. . ."

Heart-breaking cry. "'But we - we trust in the Name of Aslan. Others collapse and-" shudder "- fall but we- we rise and stand upright.'" Wail. "Oh, Highest of all Kings, let me be with my brother!"

The Breath of a Lion. "Be at peace, my son."

Rush of an enemy. Cold steel. Darkness. Then -

Light. "Provos."

* * *

'lo. Erm. *rubs neck sheepishly* I know I haven't updated _anything_ recently, and then I come out with this. And speaking of which, I'm not really sure where this came from, though I did just perform in a play that was quite depressing, so perhaps that had something to do with it. The language (Old Narnian) came from Tonzura123, whose stories are incredible, so (after you review) go read them!


	6. Tired

The door opened quietly, and a young woman came in. She looked about her for a moment, then sank to the floor at the Storyteller's feet.

"_I hear tales each day of this world full of wonder  
I hear people say,"You can harvest the plunder"  
But as I reach out with a trembling hand  
All the gold coins just turn into sand._ Sir," she said quietly, "I need help.

_"I feel very weary, my temper is biting  
I know I've grown leery and tired of the fighting  
I pray everyday that it all will be grand  
But I sure could use help of your kind, friendly hand  
_

"My family is dead. The life I have been leading has been leading to death. I need something real.

_"Please, Storyteller, pull a tale from your pocket  
Spin me a story from your coattail so bare  
My heart has turned cold, my dreams are too old  
And I need to know magic's still there_

"My own coat's too thin and I'm down to the lining  
The spirit within on itself is entwining  
My colors are faded, my cuffs are both worn  
And the seam down the back is all tattered and torn  


"I heard of you yesterday. Someone was talking of you, and they told me where to find you. I've tried every thing else. I…need something more.

_"I walk through your door, see the smile that won't tire  
I sit on the floor with your dog by the fire  
You'll guide me on walkways where the faerie lights burn  
And I hope that I never return  
_

"Show me what I must do to live again."

The Storyteller leaned forward and placed his hand on her head. "My daughter, it is well. Come, I will show you what you must do."

He led her to a window and told her to look out. "What do you see?"

"I see a young girl in a crown and a beautiful dress. She looks like a queen. She looks like –" the woman gasped. "It's me. But I'm Susan Pevensie, I'm no queen."

"Daughter of Eve, look again. What do you see?"

"I see a young woman. Her hair is nearly to her feet. Her hands are ever working to bring joy and harmony to her people, and her feet run to make others welcome to her home. Who is she?"

"Look again."

"Oh." The soft cry escaped her lips. "It's me. But –" she hesitated, looking ashamed. "I never did anything to serve anyone. I only wanted to have fun."

"You did serve. Once, long ago. Think, Queen Susan. Remember. A castle on the sea. Animals that talked. Dryads. Naiads. Satyrs. Dwarves. Fauns. Aslan. "

A shiver of delight and remembrance ran through Susan. Her hands reaching out toward the window and the rising sun that could now be seen through it, she cried aloud, "Aslan! Aslan! Aslan! Narnia! The four thrones! Cair Paravel! Caspian! And Aslan – Aslan said Peter and I couldn't come back. And I – I was angry. I left Aslan. Will He –" she clasped her hands in front of her, and like a child said eagerly, "will He forgive me and let me come home?"

"My daughter," the Storyteller smiled, a strong and infinitely tender smile. "My daughter, He has forgiven you. He and your brothers and sister wait for you, but you yet have work to do here. You must tell others what Aslan has done for you. Tell them the stories. For as long as Aslan is glorified, all will be well."

_"Who'll keep the firelight bright when you're gone?  
Who has the insight to help me go on?  
You taught me that stories, once told, can come true  
And I hope that I will tell them with magic, like you._

"As long as He is glorified."


End file.
